


The Old Space-Time Song and Dance

by AndreaLyn



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-20
Updated: 2011-06-20
Packaged: 2017-10-20 14:32:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain Kirk's used to getting his way. This time it involves time travel and possibly bending the space-time continuum.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Old Space-Time Song and Dance

“Lieutenant! Lieutenant, there’s an unauthorized presence beaming itself onto the ship,” Ensign Percy alerted Scotty with mad desperation long after he had left his shift. This was all the warning that was sent to engineering before the entire transporter bay grew silent in dead shock. Scotty leaned heavily against the communicator in the wall, pressing his weight against it as if that would somehow get him more information.

Scotty didn’t want to panic just yet. He didn’t want to assume the worst. “Damn it, Percy,” he growled. “Talk to me!” She wasn’t replying, but Scotty could hear the soft breathing over the line, which meant that something was going on.

“It’s okay, Scotty,” a familiar voice came over the line.

“Captain?” Scotty asked warily. Sure, it sounded just like him, but there was something strange in his tone and would the bay really grow so silently shocked to see him? ...unless the Captain was absolutely stark-naked, in which case Scotty was very glad that he wasn’t currently on-shift in the room.

“Don’t worry, Scotty, it’s all under control.”

He barely heard the protest from Ensign Percy before the line was cut off and Scotty was left wondering just what the bloody hell was _actually_ going on.

*

The transporter room was a mess of chaos, shock, and silent awe. Jim Kirk leaned back off the communication link and glanced over his shoulder at his CMO. He pursed his lips together firmly and offered his very best look of innocence.

“That didn’t work on my father, it doesn’t work on me,” his CMO nearly growled. Jim shrugged idly and forced himself to admit that maybe the cute and innocent look fell by the wayside when he turned forty and that had been twenty-two years ago. He shifted and adjusted his red admiralty shirt while pushing his way down the transporter pad, saluting idly to Percy and to the other two ensigns attempting to hide behind her. For sixty-two, Jim had held up fairly well. Sure, he had a little bit of a paunch and his hair had gone fully grey, but he could still run with the best of them and hold up.

And when he couldn’t, Joanna Mathers kept him in check. She was forty-four and had been his CMO for two years, ever since...

Well, that was why they were here.

“Bridge first,” Kirk said decisively, stepping forward and moving with a slightly slower gait while Joanna trailed behind him, rolling her eyes. Her expression did soften slightly while they both avoided the questions before them. There were particularly two that concerned the both of them. The first was, ‘what year is it?’ and the second was ‘when are we going to see him?’ “We report the situation to Spock, we deal with myself, and then...”

“You have to see him at some point,” Joanna reminded him calmly.

“Percy? Percy, I think. It is Percy?” Kirk hesitated by the door and narrowed his eyes critically in her direction. “What date is it?”

“2260, sir,” she replied, blinking rapidly. “Should we inform the bridge you’re coming?”

“Good thinking, Ensign. Please do,” Kirk concurred with a nod as he strode out the door and down the hallway while Joanna picked up the pace to catch up. She was used to following him and conforming to his pace and this was just like always. “He’s thirty-three,” was all Kirk said and Joanna barely even heard the addition.

She had every right to feel uneasy about this situation, but she still managed to feel bad for the Captain. “I know, sir,” she said softly.

“Are you gonna be okay?”

“I will be if you will be,” Joanna lightly teased, trying to force a smile on her face.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here before my crew starts thinking up crazy ideas to keep us here,” Kirk whispered into Joanna’s ear as he coaxed her forward and they began their determined march towards the bridge.

*

The news of the visitors from the future had spread around the ship like rocket-fire and McCoy had been briefed at the same time as the whole Medical Bay via the transmission from Uhura on the bridge. She sat ramrod straight and there was slight tension lingering around her face as she briefed the three doctors and five nurses on duty at that point in time. “Thanks to the help from Scotty and Spock in the future, they were able to rig the controls of the transporter and arrive here in the past,” she explained firmly. “They have logged the situation with ourselves and Starfleet and they intend to visit Medical next,” she communicated. “Doctor McCoy?”

“What?” McCoy sighed out the word, rubbing his eyes and trying to figure out if he really wanted to deal with this.

Uhura offered a twist of an empathic smile. “Our Captain is still off-shift. We’ve raised him and he’s on his way to join you in order to receive our visitors.”

McCoy had sent Jim to bed the night before when he was faring poorly due to the fauna and the flora of the last planet they had visited. He had been suffering from allergies and had spent the most recent nights wheezing just to get breath. Jim had peered drowsily at McCoy the night before with fondness and love in his eyes.

“See?” Jim had sleepily mumbled. “You always take care of me.”

“Go to sleep, Jim.”

“Yes, sir. Love you, sir,” Jim had added softly.

McCoy glanced at the doors as Jim slowly wandered inside, rubbing at his eyes and looking incredibly drowsy. He’d already taken his pills and that meant that he was still vaguely out of it. He set himself right by McCoy’s side and leaned slightly on him after pressing a kiss of greeting to his cheek.

“I heard right, didn’t I?” Jim asked, stifling a yawn that could easily be blamed on the meds. “There’s some sixty-something version of me about to come here and his CMO, too? Bones, how old do you think you’ll be, huh? Seventy-going-on-two-hundred?” he teased.

They were a year and a half into their mission and the crew had known about the both of them for seven months. Jim and McCoy had known about them for six months. It was one of those instances in which the combined genius of the four-hundred-souls on the Enterprise had worked together to make McCoy and Jim come to terms with the fact that they didn’t lean on each other as hard as they did for dependence any longer, but because they wanted to and because they shared genuine care and love for each other. It had taken one month of serious conversations and probing questions before Jim and McCoy had come around to each other. The nice thing about the whole thing, as McCoy always liked to point out, was that because the entire crew had been in on the arrangement, they could bear to look it in the eye when they exchanged small affections in public.

McCoy held himself as rigidly and staunchly as he could, arms behind his back as he kept his attention on the doors – as the rest of his staff followed his example. “We’ll see, Jim,” he said quietly.

It felt almost anti-climactic when the doors hurried open and a much-older version of Captain James T. Kirk stepped through, trailed by a shorter woman with her hair clipped to one side and wearing science blue. She wasn’t young at all. In fact, she appeared older than the majority of the _Enterprise_ ’s crew, but unless someone had injected McCoy with new chromosomes and a fountain of youth, that definitely wasn’t him as Jim’s future CMO. McCoy took a long moment to study the differences between the Kirks and couldn’t help his tiny smile of content as he looked at the laugh-lines permanently etched on Kirk’s eyes, the grey in the hair and the fully-filled out figure. He idly nudged Jim in the side with a light elbow.

“See, Jim? That’s what happens when you don’t follow the exercise-and-diet regiment I give you,” McCoy warned firmly, unable to help his grin.

He turned to greet the visitors, but he definitely didn’t expect to see the both of them staring at McCoy like he had personally done something to harm them. He really didn’t expect the woman to cross the room and start shoving him backwards again and again, smacking him in the upper arm. Jim seemed to be making strides to stop her and McCoy could vaguely hear him, but his whole world had narrowed to small things.

Her eyes -- _Daddy, don’t call me kiddo, I’m five!_

The curve of her lips -- _and the tooth fairy will bring me money if I put it under my pillow?_

The small scar on her left ear -- _Daddy, Daddy, it hurts, Daddy, please make it stop hurting_

And before he could say a single word or anyone could pry her from attacking him, she surrounded him in a tight hug and clung on as hard as she could. Her breathing was ragged and she was restricting some of his air, but he wasn’t about to let go of her as he wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her in close.

“Hey, it’s okay,” McCoy murmured, rubbing his hand up and down her back. “JoJo, it’s okay, baby, it’s okay.” He eased back to brush away a tear from her cheek and gave a quiet laugh of surprise. “Christ, look at you. You’re all grown up and don’t think I didn’t see the wedding ring on your finger. I hope to god I put the fear of god into that man. Or woman. Or alien. Just tell me he treats you right.”

“He does,” she admitted with a weary laugh. “I feel so stupid,” she admitted. “I’m forty-four and I’m here acting like I’m five and I’m watching the dog leave for the last time...”

“...before he went off to the farm,” McCoy finished the sentence for her, still keeping up with the lie he’d told her at the time. It made them both laugh and seemed to ease up on the tension of the moment.

McCoy glanced to the side and eyed his Jim for a long moment before turning to look at the visitor from the future. Kirk was looking at him with just as much strangeness as Joanna had, but there was something else on his face. Something like regret and pain and joy and there was a ring on his finger, too, but it looked bleaker than a wedding ring would. He noticed the hesitance and the way the older-Kirk glanced to Jim. “Would you object if I hugged him and spoke to him?”

“Be my guest,” Jim offered, though his voice was strained.

It felt like another eternity before the distance was closed between them and this older, slower, more mature version of Jim Kirk was keeping McCoy at arm’s length and studying him with such affection that McCoy felt as if he would drown in it. Kirk searched his face and leaned in to whisper words to him before pressing a kiss to his forehead and simply keeping him so close.

 _I’ve missed you so much, Bones. You don’t understand how hard it’s been. You said it didn’t matter, that we got thirty-eight years, but it wasn’t enough._ He eased away and suddenly McCoy understood implicitly why they had come back. Sure, he might have been wrong, and yes, he might be a little self-involved to automatically jump to the assumption that he did, but it fit the bill.

McCoy glanced worriedly over at his Jim and took a deep breath to steady himself.

The Kirk from a time far from his own bent down and wrapped his fingers – strained, looking as though they ached from arthritis – around McCoy’s wrist.

“I forgot how incredible you looked,” Kirk marvelled as his gaze slowly roamed over McCoy’s body and he leaned in to press a chaste kiss to McCoy’s lips. It was soft, slow, and Kirk let out a quiet sound of loss when he eased away. “Come on. Bring Jim with you and let’s go to your quarters. We have a lot to talk about.”

He eased away and collected Joanna with a hand to the small of her back, seemingly protecting her as they moved away. McCoy watched warily before turning to look at Jim, lingering while the visitors departed. Both parties knew the corridors as implicitly as it got and no one would get lost. McCoy had a funny feeling that this reassuring knowledge was all that was keeping him steady for the moment.

Jim eased closer until his shoulder was pressed to McCoy’s – closer than they usually stood. McCoy waited patiently for whatever comment was coming due. He was expecting a joke about how it had looked or maybe about the way Jim had aged, but instead, Jim’s tone was utterly sober when he spoke.

“You’re not with them,” was all he said, eyes fraught with fear.

 _Thirty-eight years together_ , McCoy thought and pushed down the swell of panic and fear eating at him.

“Come on, Jim,” McCoy grunted. “Let’s get to our quarters and talk this out.”

“But Bones, what happened...”

*

“As Captain of this ship, I’m ignoring the fact that you and I share an identity,” Jim announced when they joined Joanna and the Kirk of the future in the Captain’s quarters. He was in full-Captain mode and was pacing the floor with his hands behind his back, “And would like a full and immediate explanation as to why Dr. McCoy isn’t with you, why you chose to manipulate time and space to return here, and why you gained weight.” The last point was almost petulant and Kirk gave Jim a dubious look. “What? I want to know so I can avoid it!”

“Xenopolycythemia.”

Bones definitely looked uncomfortable and Jim didn’t like the sound of it. His other self looked more than uncomfortable and he rubbed the black ring on his thumb over his face, grimacing heavily. It was Joanna who spoke, glancing up from where she was moving her tricorder over McCoy.

She turned to Kirk and gave him a firm nod. “He’s just contracted the disease. It tracks out the same. Thirty-eight years from now.”

“Good,” Kirk said, with a morbid cheer to his voice as he dug through his away kit. “Talk about irony, Bones,” he rumbled. “Three months after it happened we met the Fabrini while I was in mourning. Three months after, we found the cure.” Bones was shifting uncomfortably in his seat and Jim drifted over to him to rest his hand on his shoulder, to offer support. “I thought that I’d never get past losing you,” Kirk admitted, his voice raw and filled with absolute loss. “I went on every mission I could find and barrelled my way headfirst looking for death, but something always stopped me. I like to think it was this.”

And with little more to say, Kirk leaned over and pressed several vials into Jim’s hands.

“It’s going to hurt him,” Kirk confessed quietly. “The Fabrini couldn’t make that part of the treatment vanish.” Jim nearly faltered at staring his own self in the eye, looking at what thirty-four more years was going to bring forward to him. It was going to give him maturity and it was going to give him understanding.

Jim’s gaze dropped to the ring. “That...?”

“A band of mourning,” Kirk replied heavily. “We never found the time or the inclination to take vows. When he died, I vowed I wouldn’t ever forget him or let him leave my side, even if he was only...” Kirk trailed off and tapped his temple with two sure fingers. “...up here.” He even managed a half-present smile. “I like to think it would have been enough,” he remarked, gaze sliding to take in McCoy’s expression. “I forget, sometimes, how young you used to be. You aged well, Bones, don’t you worry about that,” Kirk insisted. “And truth told, I prefer you when you’re older, but it’s just something to see you here. To see you alive.”

Jim knew that he ought to feel some kind of bond with _himself_ , but at this point he was willing to do anything in order to make his older self stop looking at Bones like he was considering kidnapping him.

Jim clasped the cure between his fingers tightly and tensed his jaw, knowing that he ought to just thank himself and thank Joanna and move on. He glanced up at the older-woman, wanting to know _everything_ at once, but

“You’re leaving now,” Bones finally piped up, his knuckles white from gripping the couch as hard as he possibly could.

Joanna simply smiled easily. “We have to go back to our time and see if the change was worth it. We’re going home to you, Dad. You better have dinner on,” she said stubbornly. “You know,” she said with a quirk of a grin. “You kind of _like_ Jim’s paunch.”

“Hey!” Kirk protested.

“Sorry, Dad,” Joanna managed with a shrug. “I only speak the truth.”

Jim nearly flinched at the easy and casual repertoire between the two of them and wondered how long it was going to take him to earn that kind of bond with Joanna and whether they were still going to achieve those lengths, even if they saved Bones. They were on their feet and already in the process of goodbyes before Jim could even process what was really going on. Jim watched his older self surround Bones in a tight hug and whisper words that Jim couldn’t hear (and wasn’t sure he wanted to).

He was breathing shallowly when Joanna wrapped herself in his arms forcibly.

“You’re just a kid,” she marvelled fondly as she stepped back and glanced over her shoulder. “I’m not supposed to tell you this, but I don’t believe in that time-influence stuff. Propose to my Dad on his fortieth birthday instead of chickening out and hiding the ring. When he turns forty-nine and holds his granddaughter for the first time, his knees will give out, so be there for him. Chekov is never going to want to do _that_ with you so stop even thinking about it, and after Seti-Station-Nine, you might want to procure a good lock for the door after the effects of the alien pollen on you.” She studied him carefully and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I love you, Dad,” she insisted. “Take care of him. Make sure the cure doesn’t make things worse.”

She stepped away, but never once took her gaze off of Jim and McCoy, as if staring in wonder at how young the both of them were.

“Joanna,” Bones called after her, as if he couldn’t bear to just let her walk out.

“Yes, Dad?” she asked, spun around even as Kirk was escorting her out of the room, even as Jim was wondering at how things could change so much between timelines. She stared hopefully at her father, even though time was different and ages were different and they couldn’t change that. She looked like she’d cross another four timelines if it meant saving Bones and Jim knew exactly how that felt. She pressed a kiss to her lips and extended them to him. “Your grandkids say hi and we _will_ see you. We will,” she insisted, her desperation palpable.

Jim didn’t make any move to follow the wayward travellers and instead kept hi eyes on Bones carefully, watching him sag heavily on the couch as if beckoning Jim closer to try and help him. Jim wrapped an arm around Bones’ shoulders and eased himself into a comfortable position, letting out a weary exhalation that might have been a laugh any other night.

“So that’s me, huh,” he mused. “I really do need to watch the waistline.”

With the cure in their hands, all Bones did was laugh. And somehow, that was the very moment that Jim knew that everything was going to be all right.

*

Jim was waiting with painkillers, cold compresses, and hopeful smiles in his possession when McCoy roused from his last treatment as given to them by the Fabrini in their own strange roundabout way. He felt like he’d gone a round with death and had lost, only coming out of it by bartering away his best scotch and getting his life back long enough in order to fetch it for the man. He sat up slowly, trying to shake the notion of a disease wracking its way through his body.

Jim just smiled warmly at him.

“I called Jo while you were out.”

“Great,” McCoy grumbled. “So I can expect some kind of chaos that you two cooked up while I was out of commission?”

“We were thinking Thanksgiving dinner,” Jim offered, leaning over the bed to lightly wipe away the beads of sweat that had started to collect on McCoy’s neck. “Starting up our little sad and desperate family now instead of waiting a couple of years. It might affect the future, but honestly, I don’t think future-me will care all that much if I buy Jo a couple of extra birthday gifts. You know?”

“No, don’t think he will,” McCoy agreed warmly. “So, am I cured?”

“Well, there’s this doctor I know who says I should kiss it better,” Jim noted playfully as he leaned in and rested his lips precarious inches away from McCoy’s. “Kiss to make it better?”

“You’re an infant,” McCoy might have protested if Jim weren’t busy kissing the breath out of him. So an apple a day kept the doctor away and kisses made it better, but it was the promise of a long and winding path laying out the way to their future that really gave McCoy the hope that the disease was licked and they could go on.

“Here’s to the next fifty years with you, old man,” Jim exhaled.

Yeah. McCoy could do that.

THE END


End file.
